“Pardon me for disturbing you,” I said; “I came here to find out the time from your clock.”
“It is two o'clock. Is that all you came for? Did you imagine I could retire to sleep without first knowing what your motive was in returning to this house? Have you then forgotten everything?”
I came to her and sat down by the window before speaking. “No, Dolores,” I said; “had I forgotten, you would not have seen me here enlisted in a cause which I looked on only as your cause.”
“Ah, then you have honoured the Casa Blanca with this visit not to speak to me—that you considered unnecessary—but merely to exhibit yourself wearing a sword!”
I was stung by the extreme bitterness of her tone. “You are unjust to me,” I said. “Since that fatal moment when my passion overcame me I have not ceased thinking of you, grieving that I had offended you. No, I did not come to exhibit my sword, which is not worn for ornament; I came only to speak to you, Dolores, and you purposely avoided me.”
“Not without reason,” she retorted quickly. “Did I not sit quietly by you after you had acted in that way towards me, waiting for you to speak—to explain, and you were silent? Well, señor, I am here now, waiting again.”
“This, then, is what I have to say,” I replied. “After what passed I considered myself bound in honour to join your cause, Dolores. What more can I say except to implore your forgiveness? Believe me, dear friend, in that moment of passion I forgot everything—forgot that I—forgot that your hand was already given to another.”
“Given to another? What do you mean, Richard? Who told you that?”
“General Santa Coloma.”
“The General? What right has he to occupy himself with my affairs? This is a matter that concerns myself only, and it is presumption on his part to interfere in it.”